The Letter
by Twyla-Nox
Summary: Severus finds a forgotten letter from an old love.


This should go without saying, I don't own Severus Snape, Harry Potter, or anything from the Harry Potter series.

Severus Snape stood at the sink in the washroom, surveying himself in the mirror. His hair hung in greasy strings around his head, his pale complexion practically glowed in the dim moonlight filtering through the high windows. His fingers, slender and pale, touched each silver button on his robes. He met his gaze in the mirror and his lip curled in that distinctive way of his.

He hated his reflection. He hated his pale complexion and deepening wrinkles, the sagging skin of his jaw, the crow's feet that spread from the corners of his angry eyes. They only served to remind him of the years that had passed, the ages that had been spent, between that day and now.

That day…

He shook the idea from his mind. He could not, would not, think about that day. It was a fluke, she had been weak, it was a taste of what would have been, should have been, and now wasn't.

Snape strode out of the bathroom and down a long flight of stairs. His lips tightened with each step.

Potter was waiting at the bottom.

The impertinent boy had his arms crossed, his disheveled hair sticking in all directions. He glared up at Snape.

"Mr. Potter." Snape said, his lip curling. This boy, this disrespectful boy, was _just like_ his father.

"Professor Snape." Harry said.

This was a game they played almost every night, Harry already knew the rules. Snape started walking down the hall, growing more annoyed every time Harry's heavy, uneven step fell out of line with his own steady pace. Finally they came to a large wooden door.

Snape opened it to reveal a room full of filing cabinets.

"Get to work, Mr. Potter. You may go when I allow it."

Harry said nothing, only walked to the cabinet that he left off on last night. What time had it been when Snape let him go? At least two o'clock in the morning. Given the lack of respect with which Harry greeted him, he could expect to be here at least as long, if not longer.

Snape turned and sat at the old desk in the corner of the room. He didn't feel like grading papers, especially as the papers left were Slytherin assignments and he didn't want to grade those while in this foul of mood.

Nonchalantly, he opened the drawers of the desk one by one. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, some piece of work he had overlooked, most likely. Three of the four drawers revealed nothing of interest, but the last…

It was sitting innocently under a pile of papers. It had yellowed with age, the scroll fibers were weak and the edge was frayed. It was tied with a bright green ribbon and had a single name written on it in looping, elegant script.

Severus.

Only one look at the name made Snape realize where this letter had come from.

Lily.

This was the last letter, the very last. How long was it since she sent this? Sixteen years?

Carefully, for the first time, he unfurled the scroll.

_Dear Severus, _

He looked up, watching Potter, who was busy shuffling the cards in his hand, sorting them into piles. Snape carefully, nonchalantly, covered his name on the back of the parchment while tucking the green ribbon into his palm.

_Dear Severus, _

_ I feel so conflicted… about writing this. I'm not even sure where to begin. _

_ I guess, first of all, I forgive you, Severus. I really do. And I regret nothing. It was a stressful situation, you know how James can be at times, and I appreciate you being there. That being said, I do not condone what you have become or what you have been doing. But, for that moment, Sev… you were the boy I remember as a child, you were my best friend. _

_ I suppose our emotions got the better of us, and though I do not regret what happened, I am obligated to say that it is not likely to ever happen again. I love you, Severus, but I love James more._

_ James and I got back together three days after you visited and we have resolved everything. I think you helped in that matter. Though it's cliché, I feel I've 'sown my wild oats' (so to speak) and now feel content to be James' wife. However, shortly after realizing this, something occurred that is going to haunt me probably for the rest of my life. _

_ Severus, I'm pregnant. _

_ I know the dates are very close, so it could be James' child, but… I don't know. You and he are so very similar, no matter what you believe about yourself, that it's likely I'll never know the truth._

_ This is my plea, Severus, get out. Get out now, get out of this lifestyle you're in, which serves no purpose but to pain you. If you do, if you stop serving He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and come back to me, I promise you can be my child… our child… you can be their godfather._

_ Consider it, Severus. _

_All my love, _

_ Lily._

Severus' mouth twitched and his eyes glanced up at Potter. His black hair, his insubordinate attitude…

He had been able to… to do Severus' spell… he had performed it perfectly, exquisitely even… was that, possibly, unbelievably, a hereditary trait?

"Potter." Snape said, letting Lily's letter roll back into itself and tossing it quickly in the drawer.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry said, standing.

"You may go."

Potter stared at him for a moment in confusion, but Snape offered no explanation. Harry shrugged and bent to tidy the cards he'd left on the ground.

"Don't bother, Potter. Just leave. But make sure you are back here promptly tomorrow evening.

"Yes, Professor." Harry said and turned toward the door.

Snape watched as his son grasped the heavy metal handle and disappeared behind the door.


End file.
